XXXXXLAYLAXXXXX
I sigh, my head cradled in my palms with my elbows resting on Peter's back as he carries me through the woods like a sack of potatoes over his furry shoulder, his clawed arm like a steel band around the back of my knees. I should probably be horrified, but… My instincts are telling me that Peter has no intention of killing me, and that all I needed to do was tread carefully on this minefield of bullshit. I feel Suhel's warmth incense the further we speed into the preserve, comfort and reassurance filling my chest and allowing me to send my own to my frantic pack mates.
Scott and Isaac were both terrified for me, Boyd, while still very concerned, brought some pride and gratitude to the forefront. He was doing best to block as much negativity from me as possible, and actively sending only one thing to me. It felt a lot like a mental "you can do it!" In the end, it was Stiles I was most worried about. His near panic was lined by deep guilt and borderline self loathing. If I live past this shitty night, I'll have to beat some sense into him and then cuddle the fuck out of him untill my adoration was imprinted on his fucking skin. He always takes too much onto his shoulders, the idiot.
Abruptly, I'm shrugged off his shoulder and set on the ground, stumbling as my feet settle on uneven ground, thick grass brushing my ankles. I blink, looking towards where I think Peter's face is, finding only blazing eyes in the dark and the flash of surprisingly white teeth, just an edge too sharp to be human. "Alright, Little Queen. Your friends are safe, so it's your turn to hold up your end of this deal." The words whispered into the night would almost seem gentle if it wasn't for the threat behind them that made my hair stand in end and my instincts flare in warning.
I stare at him, my face bland, almost bored. It's a convincing mask, one perfected over years of needing to hide certain emotions, but it was definitely less effective on someone who could hear my heart rate spiking. He chuckles, "Come now, Sweetheart, a deal is a deal. Am I going to have to persuade you? I can be very persuasive." A hand, lightning quick, wrapped itself in my dark hair, tightening viciously and giving a gentle tug. Well, comparatively gentle. The force still had me wincing and stumbling again.
I hiss, shoulders hunching defensively. I fucking hate it when people I don't trust touch me. I fucking despised it. It may have seemed contradictory considering how tactile I was with my people, but outside of that, it made me want to peel my own skin off. Trauma does that to you. Baring my teeth, I sneer, eyes burning in a way that lets me know they've changed into their supernatural form. "Fuck off. Can't you sniff him out?"
Peter hummed, curious, as his fist slips free from dark brown strands. "Hmm, I'm still healing from my… affliction. My senses aren't quite up to par with my strength and speed just yet. A temporary state, I assure you. You'll help me." It wasn't a question.
Rubbing my hands over my stinging scalp, I glare, but pause, considering. Peter is probably not a threat to Derek. Not really. And if he is, it's best we take the opportunity to take Peter out now, together, especially with Mom and Dad, (what the-), the pack parents for back up. They can legally own weapons, so they actually have the real guns and wolfsbane bullets, unlike us kids that made due with paint balls and tasers. Especially because, chances are, Peter will go for the hunters that are currently attacking Derek, at least at first….He'll be distracted. Two birds, one stone. I carefully ignore the nauseating guilt of setting Peter on people. It's to protect the pack. They're bigoted murders.
It doesn't make me feel better, but the grass gently winding around my feet, protective and soothing, does. Thanks, Suhel.
"Hunters are chasing him. He should be heading for Hale House," I tell the lunatic in front of me. There is silence for a moment before he starts laughing, delightfully amused.
"Clever girl, look how beautifully ruthless you are. Hmm, well, it's not like I mind slaughtering a few disgusting hunters. Time to go!" I grunt as I'm unceremoniously thrown back over a shoulder.
I sigh yet again. Fuck, I need a nap.
XXXXXXXXXX
I'm steered by my wrist into the husk of Derek's family home by the light of the moon. It's not my first time here, but it wasn't something I could get used to. My vision has mostly returned to normal, but it's still dark as fuck in the middle of the perserve, and even my full vision is still trash.
Peter scrolls into what must have been the living room, and if I couldn't feel his aura, (screaming, burning, rage, smoke, can't breath, can't see, where are the pups, alpha?-), I would never have guessed the turmoil ravenginging him. I shiver, careful not to touch anything since in case it triggers visions uncontrollably. It's something I definitely didn't want to do here, where I'm already struggling to hold back my powers without Suhel's flower crown and am likely to see the Hales burning to death. Just standing here lets me feel the echoes. I think they might be louder because Peter is around.
"It seems we're early to the party, Layla," he drawls, glancing around, something darker in his voice than before we arrived. Something sadder. "I suppose we'll just have to check the RSVPs."
Before I could even process that, Peter tilts his head back and roars. The ground shakes violently, and I fall to my knees, covering my ears, overwhelmed by the thundering sound and grasping my head in pain. It wasn't that I had supernatural hearing. It was that as blind as I am, I rely much more on my hearing than others, making it pretty damn sensitive. The sound bounces off everything, reverberating in my rib cage, and I sway, dizzy from it.
I slump against the wall, panting as I stare incredulously at Peter, the asshole. He smirks, "Time for some fun, Little Queen. I'll show you how worthy an alpha I am. You will accept me."
I can tell he doesn't plan to give me a choice.
XXXXXDEREKXXXXX
The roar echoed through the night, power and challenge radiating off of it, and I force down the urge to submit, to bear my throat even as I change directions, bolting for it. I knew the hunters would follow, that the howl would be a beacon to everyone, but I had gotten the call from Stiles.
Peter has Layla.
We have to get her back, hunters and alpha be damned. And when we do, she's gonna be in for the longest lecture of her fucking life on foolishness and self sacrifice that I can manage, damn her. I know Stiles will help. The only thing that is keeping me somewhat sane is the calm soothing feelings coming through from her, the crazy, impossible woman actually trying to comfort us when she's the one being held captive by a literal monster. I grit my teeth, ducking a branch and breaking into the clearing wherein stands Hale House.
The front door slams open and the troublemaker herself zooms out, crashing into my chest without hesitation. I collapse into her, relief almost dropping me to my knees, tucking my face in her neck and hair, breathing in that warm scent like cinnamon, chocolate, mint tea, and home. I pull her away, hands cupping her jaw and check her over frantically even though I don't smell any blood or injury on her. She allows it, her gaze soft and focused on mine, and I absently note her eyes seem to be working at least a little at the moment.
"Are you okay?" I breathe, resting my head against hers. She just smiles, and my chest tightens at the fondness of it as she nuzzles her cheek against mine. I slide my hand into silky hair and cradle her head to me even as I straighten to watch the creature wearing my uncle's face tread down the charred porch steps.
I gulp, glaring even as my heart aches. This is where the real Uncle Peter died with the rest of the Hales.
"Nephew, so nice of you to join us. Lovely Layla was just telling me you had a hunter problem. I suppose you've always had rather terrible luck with them." I flinch at the barb, and Layla shifts to my side, holding me tighter than ever, her hand pressing to the triskelion on my back, silent support that helps steady me more.
"I know. I know it's my fault that our family is dead," I ignored the denial coming from a still silent Layla, her face pressing into my shoulder blade. "I foolishly allowed myself to be tricked and-and used. I know. You can hate me, I deserve it."
There is silence for a moment, and gathering my courage I look up at Peter's utterly blank face."…What are you talking about?"
I startle, taken aback. "…You didn't know? Kate Argent…she was my substitute teacher and she and I…" I choke on the shame, but I can't bear to keep the words behind my teeth, either. I don't expect forgiveness, don't want it, but I've spent so many years with the truth crushing me. I…I don't want to run from this anymore. I squeeze one of Layla's hands in mine drawing strength from it, and inhale shakily, preparing myself for the claws that will definitely come for my throat. "I trusted her and my idiocy led to our family's death."
Peter makes an odd noise before he's letting out another enraged howl, and I shove Layla behind me as the ground rumbles anew, a distressed whine trapped in my throat. I brace myself, hearing several people getting closer, but Peter hasn't moved at all. I watch wary as he shuts his eyes, beta form on full display, and my eyes widen as he trembles, the scent of his wrath almost burning my nose. After a moment he seems to still.
"She took advantage of you." I flinch, but nod, pressing closer to my pack mate, but knowing I can't look away, no matter how much I want to. "You were 13. It's not your fault."
I recoil. It's the last thing I was expecting him to say.
Peter continues, claws flexing. "We knew how fucked up you were after Paige. We knew you were with someone, although we didn't really think you were having sex, but we thought you needed the time alone to get over it. We should have been their for you, Talia, Sebastian,…even I could have done more, especially because Paige was partially my fault. Talia believed that the pups were better off ignorant of the darkness in this world, but all it did was keep you unprepared. It isn't your fault, it's ours."
I stumble, dazed. "But, but you killed Laura-"
"Laura was far older than you and Alpha Heir, before she was Alpha. She abandoned the territory! SHE ABANDONED ME!" He spits the words like acid and I press Layla farther back, trying to put distance between us and Peter, whose eyes are suddenly shining with madness again. "I felt her break our bond! She deserved to die!"
Ah, there it is, I think, dazed. For a moment, I almost forgot how broken he was. Peter was always vicious, but he never, never would have harmed one of us, not for running away. "You said Laura was an accident," I whisper dully.
"She was. I hadn't even recognized her. I only really started gaining consciousness after I got the Alpha spark," he shrugs. "I'm just not very sorry."
The words, truthful as far as I can tell, make me want to cry. But, it's at that moment that I catch the scent of two people just as they break the tree line,
"Derek! And Layla! Thank god!" The two eldest pack members run to us, eyes widening on the sight of Peter, but undeterred despite it. I accept the hugs, but don't let my eyes move from the danger mere yards away, nor allow anyone to get in front of me in case he charges. "Are you two alright?"
"Looks like all the guests are arriving." Peter practically sings, and my head snaps up as the first of the hunters break the tree line. I start edging the pack towards the house, instantaneously aware of how bloody things are about to get.
"Oh, how could we pass up such a thoughtful invitation," purrs a voice from the shadows, one that always seems to haunt my nightmares, and I growl, revulsion welling up in my gut and fighting the desire to claw at my skin. Kate saunters out of the trees, utterly cocky, and I have to wonder how she can so shamelessly stroll across the land she turned into a monument to the dead. I suppose she really must be a psychopath after all.
"Peter Hale? Peter Hale was the alpha? What the hell?" Chris Argent's face would be fucking comical at any other time.
"Yes, of course, Christopher Argent. Did you think your family could burn our pack alive without repercussions? Did you think stomping on the treaty would just, poof, make it disappear?"
Chris shakes his head, but even as he continues, a horrified kind of realization starts dawning in his eyes. "The fire was an accident. It had nothing to do with us."
Peter tosses his head back and laughs. "How wonderful it must be to be so ignorant. You get to pretend to be the heros when you're really the monsters all along." He shakes his head, lips curled in a mask of dark amusement that's so familiar it makes my breath stutter, but the bloodlust hidden in those blue eyes is entirely alien to the man I knew. I feel the Sheriff press forward, but I shift to block him. Cop or not, he's still human and he won't heal like I will. "That cunt sister of yours seduced my 13 year old nephew and used him to mascre our family, humans and children included. So much for your fucking code."
My eyes go big, and, cringing, I forcefully shove his mention of me into the deepest depth of my mind where I don't have to acknowledge the trauma that was just weaponized and laid bare to a shit ton of people, ally and enemy alike, instead grasping wildly at something else to focus on. Damn, vulgarity has never been Peter's thing. Occasionally, sure, but he liked being a classy prick. I shake away the inconsequential observations to be thought of when my pack's lives weren't hanging between a feral wolf and evil hunters, detachedly noting instead the way Chris Argent recoils, actually stepping away from his sister, horror and distaste filling his scent. Huh.
"Kate. Kate, tell me you didn't!" While Chris manages to remain admirably stoic, it seems the male hunter wasn't quite able to completely mask the strain clearly broadcasted in his scent. His voice is rough with it, a hint of desperate pleading breaking through. "Tell me you didn't break the code!"
A mocking laugh erupts into the clearing, and it makes my blood turn to ice in my veins. But once again the fear is for someone rather than of them. Goddamnit, women, why the fuck are you drawing attention to yourself! The parents are both frantically trying to hush her and drag her back, but Layla is udetered, actually stepping forward to stand beside me, stubborn little shit that she is. I move to cut her off, but the sudden iron grip on our bond freezes me in place. She- she's scheming? Focused on something? Calm and steady under the adrenalin and quickened blood, but what is she planning?
"The code? What utter nonsense you embraced to justify yourself. Tell me, Hunter, how hard is it to ignore the blood on your hands? Can you sleep at night, or do the screams of your victims haunt you? How often do you have to convince yourself that you're the noble ones? Has it gotten harder or easier over time?" Layla…doesn't sound right, and I shift ever so slightly to better catch her in my peripherals, wondering what chaos she was about to unleash. Her voice has gone a bit strange, echoing and reverberating through the air in an oddly melodic way. The words are still her, uniquely so, even in that oddly formal manner, but Stiles and I, having been of the few to have heard it before, had privately decided it had to be the nemeton, Suhel's, influence., because it sure as hell wasn't mundane.
Several hunters began to shift uncertainty, looking amongst themselves while others got defensive, some even deciding that Layla was a bigger threat, and foolishly aiming their weapons towards where I had the pack nearly backed into the doorway of the ruins, and moronically dismissing the pissed of alpha for the odd, but unassuming 5'2'' tiny teen girl still half hidden by my bulk. Peter's amused grin told me that they weren't going to live long enough to regret that poor decision, though.
Then again, I think, catching sight of the lazily lidded, cutting eyes of my ridiculously badass pack mate, maybe they were at least right about her being a threat.
"The code is there to protect people! It-" Identical snorts come from, ironically, Layla, Peter, and Kate, of all fucking people to agree on something. The immediate revulsion from Layla over the fact would have made me laugh in another situation, and I know her well enough to know she'll repress the memory hard to avoid traumatizing herself with it. She continues briskly, doing just that.
"The code," she smiles ruthlessly, "is nothing but a way for you hunters to play judge, jury, and executioner, and then absolve yourselves of any responsibility or accountability after. It lets you kill whatever you don't understand and take pride in it."
Kate flips her hair conceitedly, nodding along. "Come on, Chris! Different reasoning, but Princess over there is correct about the code not mattering. Who cares what we kill, or how we do it. The filthy freaks need to die. Don't tell me you actually thought otherwise. But this, this is real interesting, hmm. Derek," I snarl at my name from her mouth, bristling again, and knowing that whatever she was about to say next was probably going to really fuck me up. "That girl is just adorable. Feisty! I mean, we had really fun times despite your montorousness, but I wonder if the sex-"
"I wonder," cuts in a deadly voice, far more terrifying this time, and yet, I feel myself calm as not only Layla, but Mel and Noah, all press closer, bonds singing with righteous fury and roaring out their support, hands gentle and warm. The sharp, panting breaths I hadn't even realized I'd started making eases almost instantly. Layla's palm brushs my triskelion tattoo again, and I refocus, knowing damn well that Layla was about to set shit off. It's obvious in the wrath and actual bloodlust, the violence, now coming off of her scent and body language, even though she's mostly keeping it from the bond between us. "I wonder why I settled for breaking your bones and smashing your face in the last time you spoke your demented thoughts to Derek. Admittedly, smashing your face in made your terrible vileness easier to bear, all swollen and unrecognizable as you were, but now, healed a bit, we all have to be miserable in your presence." She sighs melodramatically, before a scary little smirk appears on her lips as her eyes suddenly bleed silver. I have a brief moment to share an "Ah, fuck" look with the eldest members of the pack over her head because we all knew that look means nothing but mayhem. "I wonder. Will cutting out your revolting tongue make you more bearable?" Holy shit, she's really going for it. Why the fuck is she so good at threats-
Kate actually seems to have blue screened, but something must have finally clicked for Chris. "You, you're…from the gas station. Allison's friend."
Layla tilts her head, hair spilling over her shoulder even as her magic begins to bleed into her form, ethereal light coming forth, and as stunningly beautiful as it is, it still can't compare to how endlessly beautiful my friend was on the inside. She nods, graceful and regal once more, "I am," several hunters gasp, breathless at the sudden change from human to superhuman, some awed and or terrified, but others merely struck dumb. "I'm also the one judging you today."
"You BITCH!" Kate lunges, finally having recovered from the revelation of having her ass kicked by Layla, but to my surprise, it's Chris that obstructs her, shaking her.
"Are you fucking stupid?! She's a Guardian!" What? He knows?
"She's a freak like the rest! Guardians aren't even real! And if they were, they'd need to die with the rest!" Kat spits, shrugging him off.
"Are you serious?! They protect the balance and keep other supernats in check! They are definitely real, and that is a little girl who probably doesn't know what she's gotten into!" It's my turn to snort at that.
"It doesn't matter! I'll kill that little bitc-" Kate abruptly cuts off, the barrel of her brother's gun pressed to her head. The clearing goes fucking silent. What the fuck is even happening? What the fuck, what the fuck- my mind whips towards Layla at the feeling of relief and smugness, but pretty soon, I catch the scent of the three newcomers approaching quick, even as I watch the hunters split, most moving to side with Kate, but several actually shifting to back Chris. She was stalling, for sure, but there's no way she was deliberately manipulating the hunters, right?… Who am I kidding? Of course she was! Fucking evil genius-
Both Layla and I sense it just before it happens, throwing ourselves backwards to take shelter in Hale House, dragging the human pack members with us just as Peter decides it's finally the perfect time to strike, taking advantage of the turmoil and distraction caused by one magical, spiteful teen girl.
I pull my pack further inside the wreckage to dodge any potential stray bullets as gunshots start popping off outside, doing my best to shield them behind a mostly undamaged inner wall. "Welp, now we wait and hope they at least do some damage to each other," Layla says grimly, her voice back to normal, although tinged with guilt and nerves. I pull her closer, nuzzling the still soft hair and trying to ignore the smell of blood filling the air. "I was stalling, mostly. Stiles, Scott and Allison are almost here, following an orb I left when Peter was dragging me around the woods" She hesitates, biting her lip harshly, before looking up, eyes hardening to steel, but unfocused once again. Another vision. In an instant, that magical, regal tone is back, and she speaks once more, "This ends tonight."
XXXXXALLISONXXXXX
It was a harsh thing, to find your world derailing. Even as we bolted through the woods, Scott having hefted both Stiles and I over his back, seemingly without breaking a sweat, I was still struggling to comprehend the situation.
The boy I was in love with was a werewolf. My family legacy was for hunting and killing those. One of the girls I was rapidly becoming best friends with, one of the first in a very long time, was some kind of glowy, magic… thing that sacrificed herself for her friend's safety. For me, despite a clear loathing for my family. The only thing I could really understand at the moment was the absurdity.
I wince, desperately wanting to go home to my bed and wake up to find out that this was all just a really bad dream. And, with my skinned knees and palms, the crisp air sweeping past me, and the dread in my belly, I know it's not. Things have been weird for weeks, months even. A nightmare would have ended by now. This is just life.
I need to know. What did Kate do? Why? Did Dad know? Did mom? Even against that other werewolf, Scott, Layla, Stiles, and the others were so very obviously trying to protect us when we got in the way. Layla is with that monster right now, and it's our fault for sticking our noses where they don't belong! Jackson and Lydia are bit, and Erica could have had a seizure! It's a miracle none of us died!
My eyes burn, but I force the tears back, desperately clinging to the words Layla had spoken to me when I had come over. She had asked me, pleaded almost, for me to not blindly decide anything, to observe and come to my own conclusions. I don't know what my family's perspective in all this is, but I know a few things. My friends? They're good. Kind in a way a lot of people aren't. They're brave, and they genuinely care about me. And that means something.
I startle at the growl that erupts from under me, glancing over to look at Scott. His gold eyes meet mine, and even as foreign as they look, they still make my heart skip a beat. Because it's Scott. His voice is stressed with worry. "I can hear gunshots. Stiles?"
"Take us to the back of Hale House. It's where the orb is directing us." Stiles is referring to the latest development in a long list of crazy developments; Layla's magic orb. They had told me that it was a sort of guide. A personal Will-o-the-wisp that she creates to guide people. It had appeared a bit ago and the boys hadn't hesitated to race after it in the Jeep, and then later, on foot when it disappeared into the forest. I was still shocked by the inhuman strength Scott displayed, having known he was strong in theory, but this was something else entirely. He was always so mild mannered and gentle that being thrown over his shoulder, with Stiles, for the sake of speed had taken me way off guard. And this is still somehow faster than I could run on my own, I think, watching the trees blur past, still flabbergasted by it.
I look behind me as we break into a clearing, and now, I can hear the not so distant gunshots…and screams that Scott has been listening to for several minutes. My boyfriend, (Do we still get to be that?), sets us down, and I feel my stomach drop at the sight before me. It would have been a beautiful colonial manor at one point, scenic and sprawling. But now? It was a memorial to a tragedy.
Aunt Kate did this? Oh god, I think, is there anything that can justify this? Either all my friends were liars, or my family were murderers. I wasn't sure which I wanted to be true.
The back door swings open sharply, and Derek Hale peeks into view, quickly ushering us inside. His glance is a bit annoyed, but significantly less venomous than last we met. I have a feeling that he just can't really be bothered right now.
The two groups swarm each other, as I shift awkwardly to the side. I watch, feeling like an intruder as they reunite, and the love between them is obvious and stark. Scott hugs his mother and the Sheriff tightly, seeming to slump into them, Derek gripping his shoulder in greeting, before moving to pull Stiles into a tight hug. Stiles, without pulling away, lifts Layla, who is currently not glowing, clear off her feet, kissing her eyes and then her forehead, before tucking her in between Derek and him protectively, and it's so tender that I want to cry again. The family ends up in a huddle, embracing one another, and I grimace, because I'm about to disturb them.
"Are…are any of my family here?" The group pulls apart, but it's Layla who speaks up after a moment, oddly hesitant.
"Your dad. He's out front." I feel myself go pale, and I'm sprinting for the front before I realize it, ignoring the calls for me to wait. I find the door easily enough, wrenching it open, but stop dead at the scene in front of me.
Several bodies, and body parts, are strewn across the grounds, bloody and unmoving. A cry cuts through the air, and it takes too long to realize it's coming from me. In an instant, Scott is there, pulling me to his warmth, trying to cover my eyes, but a flash of blonde has me ripping myself away. "Dad!"
I fall to my knees, frantically searching for a pulse, and when I find it, strong and steady as always, I crumple sobbing to his chest. To my relief, he is already stirring. I cling, anguished, limbs trembling as my dad, my rock and closest confidant groans and begins regaining consciousness. "Daddy? Mon, Pere? Dad, wake up!"
"A' ison?" He slurs slightly, and I help prop him up. "The hell hap'nd?"
"That would be the Alpha attacking." Layla's voice is blunt and calm as Dad and I both turn to look at her, and the flower crown she'd dropped earlier tonight was sitting on her head once more. It's glowing now, and I distinctly remember it not looking anything like that when Stiles had picked it up off the ground. "Hmm, interesting."
"What's interesting?" Dad sounds wary, but a lot more alert as I pull him to his feet, and he automatically tucks me into his side without taking his eyes off my friend. My friend who didn't seem quite herself.
"Looks like all the hunters who sided with you are still alive, but the ones that sided with Kate…" she hunches a little, her eyes shutting as a pained look flashes briefly over her features. It's the first real breach in her stoic facade since all the supernatural things started happening tonight, and I carefully keep my eyes on her, not wanting to look any more than I have already.
"Kate! My sister! Please, Guardian, can you tell me if…" Dad trails off, gulping audibly, his voice weaker than I've ever heard it. Layla cocks her head, seemingly observing, although her eyes aren't pointed directly at us. To be fair, Layla doesn't usually look directly at things, and yet, somehow she never seems to miss anything.
Stiles and Derek are bracketing her, both intense and stoic, Sheriff Stilinski and Mrs. McCall just as close. Scott is hovering just to the side, eyes locked on me, his face twisted as he shifts back and forth on the balls of his feet, and like I can read his mind. I know he wants to reach for me, but won't dare with my father so close.
Then the spell is broken, and Layla's head perks up, whipping to the side. "It seems Peter is bringing her back right now. I wouldn't count on her continued well being, though." The group all seems to split into battle mode pulling weapons and getting ready. "Move the living to the side so they don't become one of the dead." Dad, Derek, and Scott move to do so, but Mrs. McCall, the Sheriff, and Stiles are directed to the high ground of the remnants of the house's porch.
Layla reaches for me, and I go easily, feeling hurt and lost. Gripping my hand in hers, she softens, and I fall into her hug, still tearing up, and I know when she gently rubs my back that even now, she's still my friend. She ushers me towards the other humans, but doesn't move herself, merely smiling tiredly and shooing me when I turn to question her.
Dad joins me soon, the surviving hunters tucked into the Hale House, and grim and silent he hands me a gun. I stare. "Dad… are we really…killers? Did Kate…?" I can't bring myself to finish the sentence out loud.
Dad's face is pinched, and I think there might even be tears in his eyes, some deep form of despair reflected in them. "It's not supposed to be like this. We don't hurt innocents. We are hunters but… we aren't murderers. We have a code. Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent."
I inhale, shakily. "We hunt those that hunt us."
He nods, devastated in a way I've never seen. "Kate's broken the code."
"What happens to code breakers?" I whisper, throat tight.
Dad doesn't answer me.
XXXXXXXXXX